


Wired in Parallel

by HapaxLegomenon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Reality, Dubious Science, Gen, Multiple Selves, Number Five: A Pidge Zine, Zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 21:17:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14363865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HapaxLegomenon/pseuds/HapaxLegomenon
Summary: “Keith, calm down,” she tries. “It’s me. Pidge.”Keith’s eyes narrow and he presses the flat of the blade harder against her collarbone. “Wrong answer. Try again.”“Oh,” Pidge says. She glances at the door and locks eyes with -- herself.Pidge finds herself transported to an alternate reality, and races against time to figure out a way to get home. As they say -- two heads are better than one. Especially when they're both Pidge.





	Wired in Parallel

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING: This fic refers to an off-screen major character death in an alternate reality. Please exercise caution if this is a potential trigger.**
> 
> It can also be read as both canon compliant AND canon divergent. Fun!

After the battle, Pidge notices three things.

First: She feels twisted and nauseous, wrung-out like a sponge. Green purrs in the back of her mind and after a moment of focused breathing, the pounding headache and nausea abate enough that she can sit up straight and look around.

Second: Her comms aren't working. “Guys?” she says, but she hears only static in return. A tap to Green’s diagnostic systems reveals, bizarrely, that the other lions are out of range. “Hmm, that's strange,” she mutters to herself. “Systems must’ve gotten scrambled in the fight.” The Castle of Lions hovers nearby, visible on Green’s screens, and as Pidge watches, Lance circles the Castle in the Red Lion and races towards her.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm coming,” she says, punctuating it with an eye roll even though with communications down, she knows he can't see her. Green feels a bit sluggish under her hands, but responds well enough to get them back to the Castle.  _ I'll fix you up soon,  _ she promises, and the Green Lion hums.

Third: When she lands in Green's hangar -- it feels intensely and inexplicably  _ wrong _ .

She blinks, off-kilter. “Weird.”

The Red Lion lands beside them, and its jaws open to reveal Keith. His face is tense, angry, and he points his sword at the Green Lion and yells something that Green’s microphone doesn’t pick up. 

“What’s his problem?” Pidge mutters. She can’t help but glance around the hangar out of the corners of her eyes, though. Nothing’s where she left it, things are missing, and there are some pieces of equipment that she doesn’t recognize at all. Something is definitely off. Uneasiness starts to curl her insides, but it’s tempered with the spark of excitement that comes from having an interesting problem to solve.

Pidge tries to call a greeting as she walks out of the Green Lion, but before she can say a single word, Keith’s sword is at her throat. His eyes are flat with suspicion, and Pidge gulps despite herself as he snarls, “Who the hell are you?”

“Keith, calm down,” she tries, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. The Green Lion rumbles protectively, and she’s vaguely aware of the sound of running footsteps. “It’s me. Pidge.”

Keith’s eyes narrow and he presses the flat of the blade harder against her collarbone. And it’s definitely Keith, but there’s something just a bit unfamiliar, tilted, a feeling like vertigo. “Wrong answer. Try again,” he says, jaw tightening, and then it clicks into place. The footsteps stop and she hears Lance’s exclamation of surprise.

“Oh,” Pidge says. She glances at the others and locks eyes with -- herself.

“This is an alternate reality.” 

 

*

 

Luckily, she’s landed a reality in which they’ve already met Slav, so at least Pidge doesn’t have to try to think past her persistent dizziness to explain the truths of multiverse theory. Their Hunk makes himself busy taking readings of Green and comparing it to the Green Lion in this reality, which is parked up in the communal hangar they sometimes use between missions. He mutters several things about self-repair sequences and energy levels, and also several things about Star Trek that she doesn’t quite catch, but it makes her smile. Hunk is a giant nerd who talks to himself in every reality, not just hers. The familiarity is grounding. 

“How did you get here?” Shiro asks. He looks exactly the same, arm and scar and everything else, with that familiar air of authority. Pidge sees the way the paladins angle around him, how Keith stands back instead of even. Interesting. If she had to guess, she’d say that this is a reality in which they’ve never had to change lions. One where Shiro never went missing. Again.

She shakes her head. “I’m not entirely sure. The last thing I remember, we were about to form Voltron, but then Haggar hit us with some kind of magic. It felt like the Green Lion was about to shake apart, and --” she blinks and swallows. “Oh.”

“Interdimensional resonance,” she says at the same time as this reality’s Pidge. Mirror Pidge. They lock eyes, and there’s a glint in her counterpart’s expression that Pidge has never seen from the outside, but she knows exactly how it feels.

“We know that the ore Voltron was made out of is capable of interdimensional travel --”

“-- it would just need a huge amount of energy if there wasn’t any kind of gateway, but --”

“-- if we’re assuming a brane model of the multiverse then --”

“-- the combination of Voltron’s inherent dimensional flexibility and Haggar’s magic might have been just enough to break through the fourth dimensional barrier,” they finish in unison. The two Pidges grin at each other.

Lance makes a pained noise. “ _ What _ did they even just say?” he whines. He drapes himself over Keith’s shoulder in an invasive, overly-familiar way, and to Pidge’s surprise, Keith doesn’t even tense in response.

Instead, he actually seems to  _ relax _ , though he does shove his elbow into Lance’s side. It seems more of a cursory gesture than actual irritation, though. Weird.

Lance plants a kiss on Keith's cheek.

Pidge chokes.

Mirror Pidge raises an eyebrow at her reaction. “Not a thing in your reality?”

Pidge shakes her head wordlessly.

“Lucky you. They’re gross.”

“Um, excuse  _ you _ ,” Lance protests from around Keith’s neck. “We’re adorable.” A pink flush creeps up Keith’s cheeks, but he doesn’t say anything.

Hunk returns from his lion recon to point the scanner in Pidge’s face. “I wonder what else is different,” he muses. “Like, uh, do I cook in the other reality?”

“I’m pretty sure Hunks cook in every reality,” Pidge says, and Hunk grins at her, then shakes the scanner. 

“Okay, so, I’m not picking up anything super unusual on, uh, new-Pidge over here. Their quintessence looks a bit spiked, but I mean, if they just, like, oozed in here from another reality it makes sense that there’s some kind of residue.”

“ _ Oozed _ , Hunk, really?” Lance wrinkles his nose.

Hunk nods. “Yeah, yeah, like, when you’re making grilled cheese but there’s a bubble in the bread and when the cheese melts it oozes through? Like that.”

“So you’re saying that Haggar melted the Pidge-cheese through fourth-dimensional toast.” Shiro’s voice is entirely deadpan, and Hunk nods and grins again.

Mirror Pidge looks thoughtful. Pidge can relate. There are a million things flying through her head, half-formed and nebulous, thinking about the implications, cataloging the differences, trying to organize a relative timeline. Wondering how she’ll get home. She can't seem to focus on any one idea, and they threaten to overcrowd and choke her out. She takes a careful breath. 

Lance mutters something about being hungry, but when Pidge makes eye contact with Keith, his expression is sharp and solemn.

“So,” he says, “how do you un-grill a cheese sandwich?”

“Obviously you can’t,” Mirror Pidge says, punctuating it with a nudge to their glasses. “But this is string theory, not  _ cooking _ .” Hunk squeaks in indignation. “And besides, the essence of science is repeatable results, so we just need to figure out how to replicate the conditions that caused the ooze. I assume your physics are the same?” They direct the question to Pidge, who nods and shrugs.

“Seems like it so far. Which will at least make this --”

“-- Easier, yeah,” her counterpart finishes.

“Stop that,” Lance groans. Pidge ignores him.

“Okay,” Shiro says, in that no-nonsense leader voice of his, and Pidge reflexively straightens her shoulders when he addresses her. “You said this was Haggar?” Pidge nods, and Shiro’s jaw tightens. “That could cause complications.”

“Not necessarily,” Mirror Pidge interrupts. “Haggar might be working with the Galra, but she’s still Altean.”

“Ooh,” Lance says, vocalizing what everyone else seems to be thinking. “We gotta go get Allura.” He grabs Keith by the hand and tugs, clearly intent on a brief field trip to the bridge. Hunk mutters something about finding Coran in the engine rooms, and Pidge is momentarily distracted by the fond, indulgent expression on Shiro’s face as he watches them go. It’s not something she’s seen on her Shiro in what feels like a long time. He looks like an older brother.

And oh, speaking of. “Hey, have you found Matt yet? Not that we can’t figure this out on our own, but another…” she trails off, stomach lurching, when Mirror Pidge gives one, tiny nod. They look like they’ve been punched in the face. Shiro’s frozen, eyes wide and blank in a way that Pidge recognizes and always hopes she’ll never see again. Pidge swallows hard. “Sorry,” she whispers. She’s smart. She can put two and two together. Mirror Pidge slams their eyes shut.

“It’s fine,” they say, when it so clearly isn’t. 

Pidge remembers the minutes with dizzy clarity, the worst in her life, when she found Matt’s grave and thought it was real. She remembers wanting to curl up there and die, too, and there’s a very big part of her that thinks she wouldn’t have gotten off of that cemetery asteroid in one piece if it weren’t for the stubborn, desperate belief that she still had a chance to find him.

If that was her reality, if the dates on that tombstone were correct… she’d be shattered. 

Pidge takes a breath, quick and painful, and fights down an acute stab of homesickness. She’ll make it home. Her reality, where Keith trusts her and Matt is alive and well. She will.

“We should, uh,” starts Mirror Pidge. They break off to scrub aggressively at their eyes, leaving a smudge on the lens of their glasses. It would be interesting to watch the way they pull themselves together, if Pidge wasn’t at risk of being lost in her own vortex of guilt and secondhand grief. Shiro’s expression shutters for a moment, then his forehead smooths and his lips relax. Like he’s putting on a mask. More overt than the Shiro she’s used to at home, and Pidge wonders if that makes her Shiro more honest, or just a better liar.

“We should get to work,” Shiro decides, and Pidge can’t quite manage to return the smile he gives her.

They’re elbow-deep in a series of increasingly-complex calculations, based on the readouts that Hunk collected, when Hunk returns with Coran in tow, followed in short order by Allura, Lance, and Keith. Coran starts to say something, but Pidge bursts into surprised laughter before he can get it out.

“What?” Coran asks, flummoxed. His goatee fluffs up like something from a Studio Ghibli movie. 

Pidge gestures and splutters about mirrors, giddy from the emotional whiplash. Hunk snorts.

“I'll explain later,” he says, which does nothing to soothe Coran’s ruffled whiskers. Pidge squats down and hangs her head between her knees. The dizziness she’s been feeling since she oozed between realities hasn’t abated -- it might actually be worse. Spots swim at the edges of her vision and she focuses on not falling flat on her face. 

There are voices around her, spinning and incoherent, and then the Green Lion’s presence swells inside her, and Pidge’s entire being vibrates from the force of the purring. Miraculously, after a moment, her faculties start to return to her, and she is able to straighten up without vomiting. The Green Lion feels smug. Pidge remembers trying to persuade her parents to get a cat when she was seven -- she’d done all kinds of research, including presenting several articles proclaiming the healing benefits associated with purring. (No amount of convincing research could override her father’s cat allergy, but they got Bae Bae instead, which was a pretty great alternative.)

“Good girl,” Pidge whispers. In return, she feels a large, warm presence rubbing against her legs.

“--idge?” Someone’s voice breaks through, worried. Pidge gets the impression that they’ve been trying to get her attention for some time, and she directs a shaky grin at Shiro, who’s kneeling in front of her with a concerned expression.

“Sorry. Just got dizzy. All good.”

He looks unconvinced, but helps her stand up. Green stays in the back of her mind, still purring, and Pidge hopes that it’ll be enough to keep her on her feet until they can figure out a way to get home.

Allura steps forward with her hands raised. “May I?” she says, and even though it’s phrased like a question, Pidge knows that it isn’t a request. She nods anyway, and Allura’s hands settle around her temples, barely touching. Allura closes her eyes, and Pidge sees a faint pink glow around the edges of her vision. The dizzy, misplaced feeling crescendos again before fading, and as Pidge gasps, Allura lowers her hands. Her face is grim.

“The flow of quintessence through your body is being obstructed,” she explains. “Normally, quintessence is generated within the body, and should travel through your spiritual pathways, with excesses being discharged into the energy around you. Your quintessence feels… different. I do not believe that it is compatible with the energy of this reality, and as a result it is unable to properly equalize.” 

Lance raises an eyebrow. “So, what, it’s just building up?”

Allura nods. “Precisely. Quintessence blockages are uncommon but not unheard of on Altea. It is known to feel… unsettling.”

Unsettling. Pidge certainly feels unsettled, in more ways than one. She nods. Then, because she can’t seem to help herself -- “What happens if too much quintessence builds up?”

Allura squares her jaw. “Let us hope it does not get to that point,” she says, with all the regal delicacy her position as a princess imparts. “The Lions of Voltron form bonds with their paladins by sharing their quintessence. The Green Lion should be able to balance the effects of the quintessence blockage for some time, but I do believe that it is imperative that we return this Pidge to their reality as quickly as is possible. Before ours rejects them entirely.”

“No pressure,” Mirror Pidge mutters.

 

*

 

“I wonder if I could bond with your Green Lion,” Mirror Pidge says out of nowhere, as they work with Hunk to try to figure out the dominant resonance frequency of this reality. 

Allura and Shiro have gone back to the bridge, and Coran to his engine repair, on the basis that somebody needs to keep the Castle running while the rest of them investigate. The universe doesn’t revolve around them, after all, and the war with the Galra continues whether Pidge is in crisis or not. Allura promised to be on standby, though, and to return once the ship was replenished with enough of her energy that Shiro could act as pilot in a pinch. Keith initially loitered in the hangar, giving Pidge dark, suspicious looks and generally keeping everyone on edge. Pidge understands the instinct -- she’d probably be suspicious if someone claiming to be her teammate from an alternate reality showed up out of nowhere, too, but it makes them all feel twitchy and watched and overall isn’t great for productivity. Lance finally drags him out, after several pointed looked form Hunk, with the promise of distraction. Pidge very carefully does not think about what form that distraction might take.  

“Mm, probably not,” Hunk responds. His tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth and he doesn’t look away from his holoscreen. “Allura said the quintessence is different, right?”

“Yeah, but everything else is the same. Probably.”

Pidge looks at them both over her own holoscreen. “Green’s pretty loud right now,” she says, which is true. She feels Green registering the comment, but the lion doesn’t deign to respond. It’s odd to be so closely linked even when they’re not in combat, but quintessence-induced physical ailments aside, it’s kind of nice. The closest thing she can compare it to is being wrapped up in a big blanket during movie night at home. Or maybe the morning she woke up and knew that Matt was safe in the castle, too. Warmth, contentment, the satisfaction of things being okay in her little corner of the universe. Which is ironic, considering. Green is still nursing damage from the battle, but the plus side of Pidge’s overproduction of quintessence is that Green’s self-repair systems are running at their highest capacity. By the time they figure out how to breach the boundary between realities, Green should be good to go. But still. There’s something intensely comforting about sharing a headspace with the Green Lion.

Mirror Pidge squints up at the Green Lion. “I can’t hear anything from her.” 

Green rumbles. Pidge grins. “Why don’t you try going inside?” she says, doing her best to project innocence.

Mirror Pidge shrugs, then shoves away from their desk and rolls in their chair across the floor towards the Lion. Hunk catches Pidge’s eye, and he’s apparently much better at reading Pidge’s expression than her counterpart is -- which makes sense, when Pidge thinks about it. She doesn’t see her own face nearly as much as Hunk does.

Hunk’s eyes widen. “Um,” he starts. He spins to look at Mirror Pidge just in time to see Green’s particle barrier activate. Mirror Pidge bounces off with a yelp and they go careening across the hangar. Pidge laughs aloud and after a moment, Mirror Pidge echoes her.

“Guess that answers that,” Mirror Pidge says. They roll back up to the desk, rubbing at their shoulder. “No inter-reality lion-sharing allowed.”

Pidge closes her eyes and rubs at her temples. “I don’t think that’s necessarily true. The last time we traveled to another reality, we didn’t get sick. We did travel through a wormhole, though, so there was an actual gateway and not just, you know, witchcraft.” Her head aches. Her entire body aches. This sucks. When she opens her eyes again, Mirror Pidge and Hunk are staring at her with gobsmacked expressions. “What?”

“You’ve been to an alternate reality  _ before _ ?” Hunk squeaks. “Why didn’t you say anything!”

Because she was too busy trying not to pass out, probably. Pidge shrugs. “It didn’t seem particularly relevant. Like I said, it was a completely different situation.”

“You mentioned a wormhole?” Mirror Pidge presses. They lean forward, steepling their fingers. “I might have an idea. Tell us everything.”

 

*

 

“I suppose that could work,” Allura says, when they fill her in. Her expression is doubtful, which isn’t entirely encouraging, but, well, it’s the only concrete plan they’ve been able to come up with.

Mirror Pidge mimes a swiping motion, and several holoscreens project around the room, showing off their hypotheses and calculations. It seems sound, theoretically. As much as it can, with their limited data and time crunch. Hunk thinks he’s found a way to calculate the correct frequency for Pidge’s reality, based on the discrepancies in quintessence, which at least gives some weight to the theory that their realities must be operating in parallel on different frequencies, if not occupying the same quantum space. It could be completely wrong, and they have no way of testing it short of actually attempting to send someone across the gap, which is terrifying. But it’s the best they can do. And Pidge, feeling increasingly like her body is going to disintegrate, isn’t in a position where she’s willing to second-guess her best. 

“How much control do you have over the Teledav?” Mirror Pidge asks. They zoom in on one of the holoscreens. “Based on the information we have, I don’t know if we -- uh, you -- would be able to generate enough magical energy to tear a rift between the realities, the same way Haggar did. But it’s possible that we can use the Teledav, if you can create a wormhole with a variable quantum structure, then…”

“Moving through the wormhole should, in theory, allow me to move between quantum states and hopefully bypass the brane barrier without requiring such an astronomically high energy input,” Pidge finishes. 

Allura nods. She looks through each of the holoscreens in careful detail, and the Pidges exchange glances as she reads in silence. “Yes,” she says finally. “Yes, I think we should be able to do that.”

Pidge’s heart leaps, but then Allura’s expression twists. “Unfortunately, I do not think we will be able to make the attempt today. My own quintessence is lower than I would like, this late in the day. I do not believe I will have enough energy to manipulate the Teledav to that degree at the moment. And I will have to speak to Coran about adjusting the lenses.”

“When?” Pidge asks. It comes out more terse than she intends, but she’s exhausted and frustrated and hurting, and the novelty of solving the problem has worn off. Now she just wants to go home.

Allura gives her a sympathetic look. “As soon as I can manage, I promise you. Within a quintant, I hope, as long as Coran can manage the re-calibration in that time. Until then, I invite you to treat this Castle of Lions as you would your own. What we have, you are welcome to share.”

“Great,” Pidge mutters. She curls up on her stool, feeling nothing short of miserable. Normally, she’d be interested in exploring a parallel universe version of the castle, but her head is pounding in a way that it hasn’t since she went three days without sleep, planning how to break into the Galaxy Garrison. 

She startles when Hunk puts his hands on her shoulders, and he smiles in apology. “How ‘bout we go up to the kitchen? I don’t know about you but I’m starving and there’s a bowl of goo with my name on it.” Pidge’s stomach revolts at the idea of goo, and it must show on her face because Hunk immediately backpedals. “Or I could make something? We got those nut things a couple weeks ago, I could make you some toast with space peanut butter?” 

Peanut butter. Pidge takes a deep, wobbly breath. “That sounds nice,” she says. Hunk squeezes her shoulders.

 

*

 

Sleep is an impossibility. Even in an alternate reality, habits die hard, and Pidge finds herself walking down to her hangar. Mirror Pidge’s hangar. It’s late, and everyone should be asleep.

Which, if this reality is anything like her own, means that Shiro is probably in the training room. Keith might be with him. Coran might be on the bridge or in the halls, making sure everything and everyone is intact. And Mirror Pidge --

“Hey,” they say, in a soft voice that still manages to startle Pidge as she enters the hangar. Mirror Pidge looks disheveled and eerie in the light from their holoscreens, and their lips twitch in a small grin at her reaction. Lance gives a sleepy wave from where he’s leaning against Mirror Pidge’s back.

“Hey,” Pidge returns. She picks up a piece of robotic junk from a bin on the floor and sits cross-legged, half-heartedly poking at the circuitry. They sit in silence for a few long moments.

Finally, Lance sighs and shifts, slumping further against Mirror Pidge until he’s draped around them like an obnoxious blanket. Matt did that to Pidge the night before the battle that landed Pidge here, reassuring each other late at night that it wasn’t the last time they’d see each other. A promise. Pidge clenches her jaw.

“Why are you even down here?” she snaps, and immediately regrets her angry tone when both Mirror Pidge and Lance blink at her in surprise.

“Um,” he says. 

“Sorry,” she mutters. She rubs at her temples, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m just…” she trails off.

“Homesick?” Lance guesses, and Pidge nods. That’s as good of an explanation as any.

She startles when she feels his arm around her shoulders, and immediately stiffens. “Us, too,” Lance murmurs, and Pidge swallows hard. Nobody misses their family as openly as Lance does, except -- 

Pidge was willing to let the universe burn for the sake of her brother and her father. 

“What’s he like now?” Mirror Pidge asks, in a small, vulnerable voice, because of course they’re thinking about the same thing. The same person. 

“Taller,” Pidge says, and Mirror Pidge lets out a surprised snort. Lance pushes at their leg with his foot, and once again it strikes Pidge how much he’s acting like the big brother. Like Matt. This time, it occurs to her that it might be intentional.

“He learned how to fight,” she continues. “He’s working with the rebels now, he actually turned into a badass but he’s still a giant dork.”

Mirror Pidge presses their hands to their eyes. “The dork part I believe,” they say, with a watery laugh. “What else?”

 

*

 

“Everything is prepared,” Allura says, the steel in her voice audible even over the comm link. Her face pops up on a holoscreen. She doesn’t quite smile, but her eyes soften. Pidge thinks that her own face must be betraying her anxiety, for Allura to look at her like that. Either that, or she looks as awful as she feels. She can’t wait to get back to her own reality and stop feeling like she’s been trampled by a Klanmüirl.

Green rumbles, and Pidge takes a breath. Green’s self-repair cycles are complete, their theories and calculations are as sound as they’re ever going to be, and this is it. Pidge and Green are hovering just outside the Castle, with Green’s comm systems re-jigged to allow them to contact the Castle in this reality. The entire team is standing on the bridge to see her off -- Coran strokes his goatee and gives her a reassuring smile. Lance gives her a thumbs up, nudging Keith until he does the same, and Hunk gulps nervously. Shiro pats his back. Mirror Pidge quirks an eyebrow at Pidge. She raises her own, flicks her eyes towards Lance and Keith and back, and Mirror Pidge cracks a grin. 

“Ready when you are, Allura,” Pidge says. Allura nods and closes her eyes, and a moment later a wormhole gate pops into existence in front of the Castle. The symbols around the edges look different, and it’s glowing a much brighter purple than Pidge is used to seeing. But that’s what they expected -- so far so good.

Allura’s face is tense, and a bead of sweat drips down her forehead. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold this,” she grits out, and Pidge nods.

“Right. Uh, here I go.” It seems like she should say something more poignant, but frankly, she can’t think of anything else.

“Good luck,” Shiro says, short and sweet, and Pidge manages to grin at the screen.

“Yeah. You too.” 

She flies Green into the wormhole.

 

*

 

It’s like being crushed and pulled apart all at once, it hurts and she can’t see anything, can’t hear, she feels Green roar and she screams and --

And then they’re out. The relief is immediate -- no more dizziness, no more headaches. She feels her mind clearing and her body relaxing. She takes a long, deep breath and pulls up her locator beacon.

Less than a minute later, the Castle of Lions pops out of a wormhole. 

They land in Green’s hangar, and everything is where it belongs. Pidge lets out a sigh. “We’re home,” she says, and Green echoes her relief.

Everyone is waiting when Green lowers her head, and Pidge never thought she’d be so happy to see Coran’s giant, goofy moustache. Hunk and Lance crowd around her, offering quick side hugs and friendly slaps on the back. Keith reaches out to squeeze her shoulder, jostling Lance as he does so, who counters with a loud exclamation of indignation that sets them both to bickering and makes Pidge grin. That's more like it.

“Hey,” Shiro says softly, when Pidge extricates herself from the tangle of her teammates. “Welcome home. What happened?” 

Matt smiles from beside him, and Pidge has to fight a lump in her throat at seeing him there. Alive and safe. “Alternate reality, no big deal,” she says, as casually as she can manage, but Matt’s always been able to see right through her and his eyebrows crease in concern.

And, well, screw it. That’s her big brother. She launches herself at him and holds tight. After the momentary surprise, Matt’s arms come up around her. His heartbeat is steady through his shirt and Pidge sniffs once before getting herself under control. “No big deal,” Matt echoes, murmured into her hair. “Yeah, sure. You’re telling me everything later.”

She nods against him, and squeezes harder. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Pidge-centric zine "Number Five", free PDF that is available for download at the link below. 
> 
> The version published in the Number Five zine does not include the minor Klance, per gen guidelines, but I had too much fun with the idea and had to stick it back in.
> 
> [[[Zine PDF download]]](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScEr9T_JogRI2jHuupvl_GVG7GRwFJ61eLR25lngPJD7DmTaQ/viewform) * [[["Number Five" Tumblr page]]](https://pidgevoltronzine.tumblr.com/) * [[[My Twitter]]](https://twitter.com/paxlegomenon)


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